My life with teenage boys

There is a habit my men-children have, that is probably quite unique to Melbourne children. It only happens in the depths of winter, and it’s still something they do even at 16 years old. When it’s cold their favourite thing to do is to “lie on the heater”. By that I mean lying over the central heating duct, normally with a large blanket over themselves, to capture all the warm air, and appearing to be in a state of bliss.

It’s a childhood habit – aren’t they lucky to have grown up with central heating in the first place, and one they haven’t grown out of. They both had a duct in their rooms when they were small, and I would often find them lying on the carpet with their “blankies” to warm up. When they moved upstairs (where there are no heating vents of course) the habit remained. So I will often find one of them parked at the base of the stairs, sitting right on top of the heater, and yes, completely blocking the stairway for someone else. They have even been known to fight over this spot!

On occasions Sister of a Man-Child will find a large 16-year-old boy sprawled on the floor in her bedroom (it used to be his bedroom so I think that’s why he likes it), or I will walk into our bedroom to find another large 16-year-old on the floor, complete with blanket, laptop, mobile phone, and empty bowls under the bed “doing homework”. Somehow lying down, and being on a warm heater doesn’t feel conducive to the brain really working well does it? But trying telling that to a 16-year-old who knows everything.

Of course those who are my age know too well how spoilt today’s children are with the luxuries of ducted heating (and many others). We certainly didn’t have it when I was a kid, but I do remember very clearly what we had. It was an upright wall heater, just near the lounge room, which worked on a thermostat, so naturally came on and off. My father (in his wisdom) told us as small children that the quickest way to get it working was to blow on it!!!! So every night, wrapped in our towels straight after the bath, you would find four small girls standing in front of the heater blowing madly to make it come on faster. I don’t know how long we did that for, but eventually we grew out of the habit. I don’t ever remember Dad telling us it was a joke, but we obviously worked that out at some stage. I didn’t try that on my boys when they were small – maybe I thought the vision of a child blowing at the floor was just too ridiculous. 🙂

Do you have any childhood memories triggered by things your own children do? What small events cast you back to your own time as a kid? Are they fond memories or not? I’d love to hear from you.

I’ve written before about memories of my own childhood and of the “famous” Hurdy Gurdy in our backyard.

Just over 16 years ago, our darling men-children were born. Two gorgeous little bundles of joy that had spent 37 weeks in rather cramped quarters it’s fair to say. Any wonder they sometimes don’t like each other’s company!

I can still remember the day I found out I was having twins. I was alone at the hospital for the scan, being the typical pragmatist. Don’t fuss, you go to work (future) Father of a Man-child, I’ll be fine etc. And of course I was fine, having breezed through the early part of the pregnancy feeling absolutely amazing, not a day of morning sickness, and at 18 weeks no signs of anything unusual.

Back then it was perfectly normal to have your first scan nearly half way through the pregnancy – so you can imagine my shock when they said “The first thing we need to tell you is there’s more than one in there!” And before my brain could even register what they were saying “It’s twins”!!! Oh-My-God. My immediate thought, followed quickly by tears, was of my Mother, who 30 years before me, had learned the exact same news – that she too was to be the mother of twins (yes me and my sister). Tears because sadly she was not there to share the news, and to swap the countless stories about being pregnant with twins, mothering twins, adoring and loving twins.

I made the call to (future) Father of a Man-Child from the obstetrician’s waiting room, still reeling in shock. Thankfully he was absolutely thrilled, which helped me recover somewhat. He thought the idea of getting two at once was “fantastic”. I then went to work, and shared the news with everyone there. The irony was not lost on any of them, especially since the day before I had mentioned the forthcoming scan and told them jokingly “all bets are off if there’s more than one in here”!!!! With the number of twins in our family it’s fair to say it wasn’t a completely unimaginable event, but still a shock nonetheless.

I rang my Father and sisters that night to tell them the news. I still remember Dad laughing (knowingly) and telling me how wonderful it was of course, and probably also sharing the same sense of deja vu about my mother. And the call to my twin sister, which went something like this: “Shit, Shit, oh shit, shit…shit, shit…..(hysterical laughter) shit!” That was she, not me!

We were blessed with a wonderful pregnancy, a good birth (even though an unexpected C-section), and textbook babies. They really were amazing from day one – good feeders, sleepers, and eaters, achieving all the milestones every baby should. As parents, it really was twice the joy (and about 1.5 times the work of one baby for those who are wondering). As parents we really couldn’t ask for more, except seven years later of course, when our darling daughter arrived as a little surprise package.

So Happy Birthday boys! I can’t believe how quickly the last 16 years have passed. To watch you both grow into fine young men-children (with a few bumps along the way as this blog reveals) has been a privilege and an honour.

Love Mother of a Man-Child xo

Here’s one of the few stories about our early life with the men-children: The Holiday from Hell, the only bad one we’ve ever had.

“She Knows Everything” declared Man-Child II to Man-Child I recently. Yes, they were referring to me, Mother of a Man-Child, who stood calmly in their midst, delighted that her men-children had finally conceded nothing escapes me!

Naturally Father of a Man-Child concurs – I seem to recall his speech at our wedding more than 20 years ago, which centered on the theme that his new wife would “always be right” and he would “always be wrong”, and that’s just the way it was going to be for ever. This was much to the amusement of gathered guests and meant half in jest of course. 20 years on, I suspect that poor Father of a Man-Child thinks that he’s never spoken a truer word in his life, and he had no idea how prophetic his words would be.

So back to the story that led to the wondrous proclamation of my skills. 🙂 Man-Child I had been out to a party, arriving home before midnight. I let him in the door just as a friend left our house; he literally bounced in the door, all smiles and slightly glazed eyes. It took me less than a nano-second to process that information as I farewell-ed our guest.

Shortly afterwards I casually wandered upstairs to see the boys. Our conversation went something like this:

MOMC: How was the party?

MC-I: Yer, good thanks.

MOMC: What did you have to drink?

MC-I: Nothing.

MOMC: Don’t bullshit me (insert name), of course you have.

MC-I: How can you tell?

MOMC: I just can. It’s not hard.

MC-II (twin brother): There’s no point lying (insert name). SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING. Don’t worry you won’t get in trouble. She’s okay with a few drinks.

MC-I: Okay, I had a few beers.

See, nothing to it. Out came the truth. Apart from relishing the fact that they had recognised my amazing skills, I was actually pleased that he had admitted he’d had a few. Having remained surprisingly calm (no real harm was done after all) it will hopefully ensure open dialogue the next time too.

Of course it also reminds me how naïve a 15-year-old can be. I too was a teenager who no doubt also thought my parents would be too stupid to know I’d had a drink, regardless of my glazed eyes and swaying stance. It was surely only me that could feel my tongue not quite managing the words properly and my brain synapses a little dull – surely no-one else would be noticing would they?

So around and around the circle of life goes. I too had a “Mother Who Knows Everything” and “Father Who Knows Everything”. Obviously they taught me well!